Love Kills
by Constant Distraction
Summary: Arwen struggles with life without Aragorn.


Disclaimer: The characters and plot used belong to Tolkien. All his rights are reserved.

Summary: Arwen struggles with life without Aragorn.

This is my first fic, please review!

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Forever. 

The Elves take it literally, but for men it can be only a fraction of what it is.

"Our love will last forever, Arwen, never fear," Aragorn used to tell me, but I know now it's untrue.

The gradual silvering of his hair, his increasing frailty never bothered me. _He's still young in spirit,_ I'd tell myself. But in his later years, his spirit aged with his body. He seemed to carry the world's burdens. Only then did I begin to understand the Doom of Men. 

A week before his birthday Aragorn and I were in the throne room, listening patiently to the problems of the people of Gondor. When he got up, his knees failed him and he collapsed onto the floor. While Eldarion and I rushed to help him up, he was bewildered. His age had never weakened him.

That was when the first seed of doubt sprang to my mind. 

Aragorn's birthday dawned with no joy. The vast Gondor sky was a dull gray, the city silent. I knew what he had planned when he asked me to bring in our children. I watched fearfully as Aragorn said his farewells to our daughters, as he took the crown from his head and placed it in Eldarion's hands. And then we were alone, the dying man and his wife.

"Arwen," he said gently, "I must leave you now."

"No," I said, unwilling to believe it.

"Would you rather have me fall from my throne unmanned and witless? Or leave my life behind with at least some shred of dignity?"

_Not leave at all, _screamed my mind. _Don't leave me, Estel. _"I would rather you keep your dignity," I whispered, lowering my eyes as cold tears slipped down my cheeks. "Are you in pain, Estel?"

"Your tears pain me more than my age."

"I'm sorry," I said. How could I hurt him? I looked into his gray eyes. "The Gift of Men is bitter to receive." 

"So it seems," he admitted. "But we are not bound forever to the circles of this world, and beyond them is more than memory." Then he took my hand in his. "My life would have been nothing without you, Arwen. For what is a man without his heart? Farewell."

He kissed my hand, and I watched in horror as the life left his body, leaving him soulless. I tasted my tears leaving their salty bitterness on my lips. The world was intolerably calm compared to my frantic mind. _Wake up, Aragorn… you can't leave me like this…_ I let out a sob and quickly covered my mouth as realization hit me. _He's gone… never to be seen again._

I was unable to move, paralyzed by disbelief. All I could do was stare at his dead face and let my thought run wild. _All my happiness amounted to this._

I don't know how long I stood there before Eldarion came up. I allowed my self to be led out of the room. Eldarion stood before me, weeping as I was. "The people must be told that their King is gone," he said. 

"I will tell them," I heard the words from my lips, saw my feet walking to the balcony, but my mind was still grieving, staring at my dead husband.

From the balcony all the people of Gondor, crowded into the street, were visible. I stood gripping the railing, willing myself to do this last thing, my last duty as the Queen of Gondor.

"Your King Elessar walks the halls of Mandos," I called to the people. "Prince Eldarion is your ruler now." I turned away, feeling a new rush of sobs choke me. Then, hesitantly, I turned around.

"I think Elessar would have wanted you to know," I said as a tear splattered onto the railing beneath me, "That he didn't think he could be your king. It was you, his loving people, who gave him the courage to rule. Thank you for that." My voice trailed off into a whisper as I retreated indoors.

The sight that greeted me was a painting of a young Aragorn, newly crowned. I let out a cry and sank to my knees, unable to pull myself together. All around me Gondor continued to flow, moving in its grief, while I sat weeping in the middle. I knew my daughters and Eldarion were near, but I was never more alone.

The next day there was a viewing of Aragorn's body. I stood silently at his feet, dressed in the black of mourning, as all the citizens walked by, women and men crying. And then finally his tomb was closed, isolating him and leaving the rest of us to carry on.

But to live was impossible. I locked myself in my room, lying on the huge bed, hugging the pillows, which still held Aragorn's scent. I hated crying in front of others, being too proud to do so, but in my room I let myself weep, and let my thoughts deepen my grief.

_Gone…_my mind would whisper to me, _gone._

It was much later when I got up. I caught my reflection in the mirror and wasn't surprised by the pale shadow looking back at me, all its former radiance gone, buried in the tomb with my heart.

Outside my door Eldarion sat hunched up against the wall, holding his father's crown in his hands, confusion playing over his features. I rushed to comfort him.

"I can't do it, Naneth," he said slowly. "I can never be as good a king as he was." He buried his head in my shoulder.

I was reminded of Aragorn, all those years before, when he was unsure of his ability to rule. "Your father didn't think he could be King either," I whispered into Eldarion's hair. "And look what he did! You will be a great ruler as well."

He pulled away, wiping his eyes. "I'll try," he said determinedly. "I'll carry on his honor."

This caused more tears to streak my face. "You'll be fine," I assured him quietly.

He looked at me suspiciously.

"Could you go fetch your sisters?" I asked before another sob wracked my body.

The farewells were hard. To stand in front of each of my children, knowing I would never see them again, was nearly impossible. I held my composure until the end, when Eldarion, my grown warrior son, broke down into sobs, slipping his arms around me and crying into my shoulder. I wept quietly, wondering if he could ever understand why I was leaving my only remaining family.

I went forth from the city, never once looking back to my former life.

Lothlorien was but a ghost of its former self, an empty, lonely wood. I walked slowly under the trees, finally left alone with my thoughts. 

Memories of my father haunted me. "He will die," he had told me. "Sooner than you think."

I had responded angrily, "I would rather share a mortal lifetime with him, no matter how short, than live forever without him!"

I thought back on our short years of marriage. By Aragorn's standards we had been married many years, but for an Elf it was such a short time. 

But I had been happy. I couldn't have been content in Valinor, with the rest of my family. I needed Aragorn. He was my tie to life.

_And now he's gone,_ my mind said cruelly. There was no tie strong enough to hold me to the circles of the world.

I came upon the green hill of Cerin Amroth. How fitting that the place we had pledged our love would be the place I paid the price. I cast myself down in the place where we had once stood looking to the West. Drawing my final breath, I remembered something my father had once said about Luthien. "Love kills," were his words.

How ironic that I should live, in some sense, to say love killed me.

I opened my eyes to see a huge, formidable stone gate. "Mandos," I whispered, rising to my feet. And I hadn't believed in a haven for the dead. My heart skipped a beat as I saw the dark figure leaning against the gate. I ran to Aragorn, burying my head in his neck as he held me. Silver tears danced down cheeks, relief mingled with joy.

"Don't cry," Aragorn whispered. "I'm here."

I looked into his young gray eyes. His silver hair was black again. He looked as he had at thirty years of age.

And forever he would remain that way. I could feel happiness flooding over me as we walked hand in hand into Mandos, as proof that some things last forever.

Glossary

Naneth- Mother

Did you like it? Please review, it's my first fanfic. Thanks!


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